Page 1 of Delivering David

CHAPTER 1

December 26.

Knoxville, Tennessee.

“Two of mykids are missing from the Tennessee Cares youth emergency shelter, Suzanne,” Case Manager Mercy Phillips said softly. “I think someone snatched them.”

“What do you mean, snatched?” Suzanne Bennett stared at her friend across the diner’s scarred wooden tabletop. Outside, a drizzling icy sleet shivered down the windows and the temperature was falling fast. Knoxville seldom saw a white Christmas and the darkening granite hued sky suggested the arrival of snow now that the holiday had passed.

“You’ll probably think I’m crazy,” Mercy warned. She worked with at risk children at Family Services of Tennessee, a large state agency. Her skill at placing high-risk kids in good foster homes as well as keeping siblings in care together was phenomenal.

“After four years of doing volunteer work with you at Young-Williams Animal Shelter?” Suzanne grinned. “Try me.”

They met often for lunch atDaisy’s, a local café where Suzanne had placed several disabled adults and veterans in her job as a career/vocational counselor for Families United. It was a popular place, close to many of the downtown social service and welfare agencies whose staff frequently lunched there. Today, the menu featured special foods for the first day of Kwanzaa. The aroma of slow-cooked black-eyed peas and greens, cornbread and a glorious yam stew scented the air. The place was crowded with post-holiday shoppers, but the servers were keeping up with the flow. Mercy always ordered the Hoppin’ John casserole but today left it untouched.

Despite the hubbub, Mercy lowered her voice. “Christmas Eve, sisters Erin and Joey Campbell, who I placed at the shelter at the first of the month, told me that this past Saturday night they saw the Taylors, the on-duty couple dragging two young sisters down the hall in the middle of the night. The next day they told them they’d gone on to a foster home, but that’s total bullshit. No one moves kids from a shelter to a foster home in the middle of the night. When I went there today, Erin and Joey were gone. The Taylors said they ran away last night which is also bullshit.”

Unease inched up Suzanne’s spine. “How can you be sure they didn’t?”

“Because I told them I was going to take them home with me and damn the consequences.” Mercy’s usually gentle eyes blazed with determination. “The only reason I didn’t take them right then was because David had an upset stomach all the way home from Memphis and I didn’t want to expose them to whatever he had. So, I waited twenty-four hours. The girls are scheduled to move to a therapeutic foster home on New Year’s Day. Besides, they’d never scare their mom, who’s receiving special treatment at Vanderbilt Medical Center. There’s no other family to take care of them which is why they’re in temporary foster care.”

“If the girls saw this on Saturday night, why didn’t they tell you until you saw them on Christmas Eve?” Suzanne pushed away her plate, appetite gone.

Mercy brushed back a lock of curly, blonde hair. “David and I went to see my parents in Memphis last Thursday because they were flying to Europe Christmas Eve. We drove back then, and I went to the shelter to check on the girls and give them the presents their mother sent to my office.”

"So, they had to wait until you got back to tell you,” Suzanne reasoned. “At least they waited for you.” Having survived the foster care system herself, she knew how tempting the urge to run could be. “Did they tell you the other girls’ names?”

“Robin and Cathy Clark,” Mercy said. “They’re six and seven years old, removed from their home due to abuse and neglect. The Campbell girls loved playing with them.”

Suzanne took a long sip of her tea and considered. “Have any of the other kids at the shelter run away since then?”

“No,” Mercy said. “Except for them, the shelter was empty when I got there. The other case managers managed to place their kids. It’s rough being in a shelter during the holidays and maybe some of them would run, but not mine.”

Despite the situation, Suzanne smiled. Mercy always referred to her caseload as “my kids”, as if they were just much her own as her ten-year-old son David. Considering Mercy was widowed five years ago, she was doing amazingly well, and David was a very cool kid. “Did Erin and Joey see anything else that night?”

“That Cathy and Robin were crying, saying they didn’t want to go,” Mercy described, her voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “My girls’ door was open just enough to see the Taylors taping the Clarks’ mouths shut. Erin and Joey were terrified and I told them I’d be back today. I should have taken them and let them stay in the den downstairs and kept David in his room.”

“It’s not your fault,” Suzanne insisted. “You didn’t want them to get sick. Do you think the Taylors know what your girls told you?”

“I don’t know,” Mercy admitted. “But I gave them hell today for not calling me as soon as they knew the girls were gone. I mean, the shelter was open in case there were kids who needed to be placed. At least The Taylors had the sense to call the police and the shelter’s director.”

“‘Scuse please, Miz Suzanne. Is lunch not good today?” Stan, their server who Suzanne had enrolled inDaisy’sculinary arts training program, asked. “Used more sage and pepper in Hoppin’ John. Old Polish trick I try. Not good?”

“It’s good,” Suzanne assured him. “We’re just talking about the holidays. Are you looking forward to your first vacation?”Daisy’sowner, Barry Collins, was giving the staff the next week off to celebrate the many holidays at this time of year.

“Yes, Miz Suzanne.” Stan smiled. “Starting tomorrow. First real vacation in America. ‘Scuse please.”

He bustled away, and Suzanne gave Mercy her attention again. “Who have you called about this?”

“I called Tennessee Cares right away and spoke to Perry Johnson, the shelter’s director and asked him to notify the CEO. The guy is out of town, and Johnson said he’d let him know but I’ve not heard back from him. My supervisor is still out of town, and after what the girls told me, I was afraid to tell anyone else. Call me paranoid, but I think something bad is going on at the shelter. And if there is, except for my boss Lucinda and you of course, who do I trust?”

Her words only increased Suzanne’s concern. If Mercy, with her years of experience, wasn’t sure what to do, there was a problem. “Do you have any other kids at the shelter?”

“Not right now,” Mercy said. “And you can be damn sure there won’t be until I get an answer to my questions.”

“I’d do the same,” Suzanne agreed, picking up her fork. “Let’s eat before we hurt Stan’s feelings.”

“Can’t have that.” Mercy speared a bite of food and asked, “Can you come to dinner tomorrow night? David made you a Christmas present and he’s eager to give it to you.”

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